


and the morning is fighting in my eyes.

by shyksarry



Series: the bluebird of happiness. [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: (tho that is like REALLY minor i promise its hardly there), Angst, F/F, Gore, aj and louis r verrry minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 20:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17752955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyksarry/pseuds/shyksarry
Summary: The weather was angry that day.





	and the morning is fighting in my eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> did something a little experimental with this. if it's not really recognizable compared to my other writing that's why! i hope you enjoy :)

The moon is nothing but a sliver of silver in the sky when the cackling starts. Sleet falls in rivulets, dollop sized drops tack-tack-tacking against a weather worn roof. Violet twists. Turns. Twists some more. It doesn’t let up. _Someone up there must’ve told a really good joke_ , she thinks in between mumbles and grumbles about sleep and _work_.

In the past Violet had liked the rain and she _sort of, kinda, maybe_ still does. She likes how mulch feels underfoot; tender and pliable. The way the trees sigh and the river gurgles. How it feels like a new day. A fresh start.

But mostly she likes how it guarantees a day off from surviving.

Soon, Violet finds herself scuffling down the old boarding schools halls, shivering and shaking. The floorboards are freckled with blood in some spots and she does her best to avoid looking at those, though they lead a trail down to the cafeteria like a warning.

In the old days she might’ve gotten a hot chocolate from there - no straw, two sugars please – but now such things are a rarity. Much like good blankets, Violet thinks when she settles into the administration room, all swaddled up like a baby at night. Arms tucked in, legs tucked in, not a single toe is left out.

Now the cafeteria is a ruin. Thinking of it only brings brief flashes of sinew and oh god, the pulp of someones –

Outside, the trees are dripping from their droopy limbs. She can hear the sighs they whistle. It reminds her of something long forgotten. A mish and mash memory of a weak old woman's last breaths, the whine of a rocking chair and -

Sometimes Violet wants to be eaten alive.

In both ways. She wants someone to reach inside and pull out all she’s worth. Wants someone to find what she’s made of and tell her living wasn’t for nothing, that she isn’t a waste of space, that it wasn’t her fault, that it _isn’t_ her fault and she did all she could.

Sometimes she just wants the walkers to get to her.

Violet closes her eyes, leans back against a rotting wall, watches her breath fog up on the window and –

In comes Louis, his boots thunk-thunk-thunk on the floor, his own unique ‘hello.’ Before Violet can even glance in his direction he’s flopped down beside her, or really, _on_ her. The window seat isn’t spacious and Louis is all leg, no lithe.

Violet, disgruntled, shoves him back, ignoring the cheshire cat grin on his face. She’s feeling inclined to smack it off but doesn’t. Instead, she settles for a, “go away Louis.” and leaves it at that.

Of course, things with Louis are never so simple.

His eyes are sparkling golden when he says, “ _Violet_ , I think we may have to cancel the baptism.”

This sends her reeling, “what?” she chokes out, turning towards him.

“The baptism,” he reiterates, “we’ll have to cancel it.”

“Louis, what the fu-“

The sound of giggling has Violet shutting up, as well as the sound of a pair of double doors swinging open, clack clack. Clementine and AJ come into view, looking cheerful despite the grim weather. Clementine’s even wearing something different for once, and it sends a heat up Violet’s face that she can’t seem to ignore.

This, Louis notices. He glances over, winks at her and before Violet can stop him or smack his arm or do _anything_ , AJ’s voice rings loud and clear –

“What’s a _mud-pie_?” He says the words like they’re sticky on his tongue, so foreign and different.

“It’s a pie made out of mud,” Louis replies, poking his head around the corner with a charming smile, “have you never had one?”

The duo seem surprised and Violet supposes they hadn’t noticed her and Louis when they walked in. Clementine’s eyes reach Violets and her face goes from warm to _hot_ in a manner of seconds. That’s a record, she thinks.

AJ shakes his head, that childlike curiosity written all over his face all the while Clementine shifts and smiles at him, tight-lipped and playful. Violet wonders what it would be like to get a real smile out of her.

Clementine must notice her staring, because she glances over again and smiles a little brighter. A little wider. She opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by Louis hopping out of the window seat and swooping over to AJ, spinning a tale of woe and wonder. Violet catches snippets of it as they wander off towards the piano together, mostly lies about how mud actually tastes good and ‘ _yes people do eat it AJ, how have you never heard of this?_ ’ But loses all interest the second Clementine cautiously sits beside her.

“Loud night, huh?” Clementine quips, a smile wanting to reach her eyes.

“Yeah.” Violet replies.

“AJ was up all night,” Clementine continues, “you look like you were too.”

Violet snorts a laugh and looks at her – for _real_ this time. There’s a blueness beneath her eyes, a few shades off from violet. There’s a dimple in her left cheek that says hello when she talks and a shine to her eyes. Violet blinks and tries not to stare, fumbling until the words come out, “what makes you say that?”

She shrugs and says, “don’t think I’ve ever seen you in shorts before.”

That earns her another snort, “is that all?”

She shakes her head, _no_ , “your hairs a mess too.”

Oh.

Violet frowns, looks away and then fumbles with her hair, fingers feeling out of place in the tangles and twists and –

“No, no!” Clementine cries, surging forward with a knock-knock of her knee against Violets. She grabs Violet’s wrist and tugs it down, not too harshly but enough to bring the heat back in Violet’s face.

“I like your hair like this,” Clementine says, words soft and scared between a swallow and a breath, “I think it’s kind of... _pretty_.”

“Oh.”

Violet can feel the thumping of Clementine’s heart from where their wrists connect. There’s a synchronized rhythm to it like, thump-a breathe, thump-a, thump-a. It feels a lot like something new, like there’s splinters of an arrow digging into their hearts with their names written out all cursive and proper.

“Your eyes,” Clementine blurts out all of a sudden, breath fanning against Violet’s cheeks in anxious puffs, “I mean...your eyes look tired. That’s how I noticed, everything else is just...” she lets out a sigh, slumps back and lets Violet’s wrist go. There’s an aching when her hand once was. “Just stuff. Observations. You don’t usually look so comfortable I guess I just got carried away.”

Violet doesn’t know what to say. Her mouth won’t move and her tongue won’t work and, “well I-“

“Clem!” AJ yells, bounding over to them, grinning in a similar way to Louis, now that’s suspicious –

“Hey, goofball,” Clementine replies, sounding out of breath, “what’s up?”

“Louis says we’re going to make mud pies now that the weathers cleared up?”

“Oh really,” Clementine says lightly, peering over at Louis, who’s smiling cheekily by the doorway, “well, tell Louis that Violet and I will be joining you in a minute.”

Violet’s heart thumps. A twisting of the arrow embedded so deeply.

“A minute, got it.” AJ grins before bounding off down the hallway, quick as a rabbit on Louis’ tail.

Clementine shakes her head, seeming amused, “we should probably go after them, I don’t think AJ understands what _a minute_ means.”

Violet snorts, “I don’t think Louis does either.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Clementine laughs before quickly switching emotions, “hey before we go though, would you,” she sighs, rubs her wrist and goes to speak again, “would you maybe want to meet me up on the wall tonight?”

Outside, there’s sleet sprinkled across the courtyard floor. The grass is twinkling in the morning light and the trees dance with the wind. There's a calmness that settles in the air all gentle like when the first leaves of Autumn fall from the trees. Like a new day. A fresh start.

Violet nods a yes and Clementine smiles a cherry-cheeked smile. Their hands entwine like bed-sheets and feet wrestling in the early hours, warm and calloused and soft and cold.

The arrow in Violet’s heart gives another twist and the look on Clementine’s face tell’s her that this time, she feels it too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! comments and kudos are a writers best friend dhfdf !!! 
> 
> note: i refuse to elaborate on louis' baptism joke and whether or not he actually let AJ eat mud. lets hope to god he didn't because i didn't think that far ahead. 
> 
> if you'd like to yell about violentine with me (or about louis and violets friendship bc i LOVE them so much!!!) feel free to message me on tumblr @cirillafionaelenriannon, i dont bite unless bitten i promise.
> 
> (lastly if anyone is wondering: the title is from lotte kestners 'wrestler' its a a beautiful song and i really like the idea that violet enjoys music of the softer kind. it also really suits violentine. go listen to it you won't be disappointed i PROMISE!)


End file.
